


Shattered

by Beckers522



Series: Ineffable Husbands Playlist [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: First Kiss, Hurt Aziraphale (Good Omens), Hurt Crowley (Good Omens), Hurt/Comfort, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Love Confessions, M/M, Pre-Scene: Body Swap (Good Omens), Prophecy, Scene: The Bus Ride (Good Omens), Scene: The Bus Stop (Good Omens), Songfic, Trading Yesterday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-24 21:43:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20713004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beckers522/pseuds/Beckers522
Summary: The Apocalypse has been stopped, but Crowley and Aziraphale aren't out of hot water yet. There is still one final prophecy to decode and not much time to figure it out. Aziraphale rides the bus back to Crowley's place, all the while his mind is spinning. In a single day, not only did he lose his home, but also his favor with Heaven. What is he now? What is an angel without the grace of Heaven? How can he find a way to save them both from the end that is surely awaiting them when Heaven and Hell finally catch up?Songfic for "Shattered" by Trading Yesterday





	Shattered

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of my absolute favorite songs, but I have a hard time explaining exactly what it means. In doing a bit of digging, I found this quote from the writer of the song.
> 
> "You wake up and you don't know where you are, what time it is, how long you've been out, what happened to you last,and everything is different. the people you love are gone or changed, the things you could rely on are erased, the world you knew not only does not exist, but didn't seem to really ever exist. You just woke up from a dream to find that everything until now was the dream. Think Sydney Bristow at the end of season two of Alias waking up in Hong Kong, think the beginning of the Flight of the Navigator, think Adam and Eve morning one out of the garden. This song is not about the journey home, but it is about fixing your eyes to home. It is about standing up and taking the first step."
> 
> –David Hodges
> 
> I thought this was a very fitting description for what Aziraphale must have felt that night when he finally realized that Heaven wasn't what he thought it was - when he realized that he was no longer on their side.

_ Yesterday I died, tomorrow's bleeding. _  
_ Fall into your sunlight. _  
_ The future's open wide, beyond believing. _ _  
To know why, hope dies._

Angel and demon sat side by side on the bench in Lower Tadfield. The sun had set long ago but they didn’t seem to be in any hurry to leave. A single bottle of wine passed between them, emptying and refilling itself as the night wore on.

“Oh,” the angel murmured after some time, blue eyes gazing down the darkened paved street, illuminated by a single lamppost. “There it is.”

A bus was making its way up the road towards them. Until that moment, neither angel nor demon had been aware they’d been waiting on a bus. Now that it was here, however, they knew it was time for them to hop aboard.

The angel known as Aziraphale frowned. “It says Oxford on the front.” That was wrong. They weren’t going to Oxford, they needed to go back to London. He’d been away from the bookshop far too long. Now that the world hadn’t ended, there was so much that needed to be done. Inventories, reorganization, restocking the shelves. He would certainly be busy for weeks.

“Yeah,” the demon, Crowley, responded. “But he’ll drive to London anyway. He just won’t know why.”

There seemed to be a lot of that going on today. People stumbling through the apocalypse and coming out the other end dazed and confused and not at all certain about what had just happened.

Aziraphale sighed. Part of him wished that, for once, he could be like all those humans. Remembering this day like some sort of confused dream instead of the terrifying, heartstopping, gets-your-blood-racing nightmare that it had become. “I suppose I should get him to drop me off at the bookshop.”

The look Crowley gave him in that moment was enough to stop the angel’s heart. Whatever was the matter? Why was his forehead creasing in such a way? Why had he turned around so suddenly? Why, even behind those dark lenses, could Aziraphale still see the grief that hung in the demon’s eyes?

“It burned down,” Crowley breathed, ever so gently, as if the softness of his words could even remotely lessen the blow. “Remember?”

No. He hadn’t remembered. Aziraphale felt the confusion take hold of him as he tried to piece together the words floating around in his mind. The bookshop...was gone? Impossible. His bookshop had been around for centuries. It couldn’t just be gone.

Slowly, softly in the stillness of the night, the demon continued. “You can stay at my place, if you like.”

For the briefest of moments, Aziraphale’s heart soared in his chest. Crowley was inviting him to his flat? In all the centuries the angel had known him, he had never once stepped foot into Crowley’s home. And oh, how he wanted to. For the longest time, he’d felt that familiar twinge of disappointment every time they had to part, but now? The thought of parting with the demon, even if only for a night, filled the angel with despair. Especially this night of all nights.

_ You’ve been a bit of a fallen angel, haven’t you? Consorting with the enemy. Don’t think your boyfriend with the dark glasses will get you special treatment in Hell. _

Aziraphale tensed, his face falling as he looked away. “I don’t think my side would like that.” Quickly, he glanced back up at Crowley, hoping beyond hope that the demon would understand. He wanted to go home with Crowley, oh how he _ wanted. _ But they were already in so much trouble as it was. No need to add more fuel to the proverbial fire. 

“You don’t have a side anymore.” The words were so delicate, as if upon hearing them Aziraphale might break. “Neither of us do.” He watched as Crowley’s chest rose and fell as he deeply inhaled air he didn’t need. “We’re on our own side.”

_ Losing what was found, a world so hollow. _  
_ Suspended in a compromise. _  
_ The silence of this sound, is soon to follow. _ _  
Somehow, sundown._

The angel looked away as Crowley flagged down the bus. Slowy, with a heavy ache in his heart that was so familiar yet completely new, Aziraphale stood to follow him. As he crossed the threshold several paces behind the demon, he thought back to all the other bus rides they had shared. Sitting close but never beside each other. Always watching - waiting to be discovered. 

He supposed, they didn’t have to hide anymore. If they were truly on their own side, what did it matter? If Heaven had forsaken him, did that now make him free to forsake them in return? Could he finally live out in the open? Could he freely show how much he cared? Did he even know how to?

Heaven had been all Aziraphale had ever known. He hadn’t been the best of angels, but he had been a faithful one. Always trying his best to show love to all, to do what he believed to be right. Following orders blindly, never asking questions out loud. It hadn’t exactly been the life he’d wanted, but it was a good life. Most days, he could go about bestowing his miracles and reading his books and simply enjoying the beauty of the world around him. His life here had been a compromise, of sorts. One that he had been content with.

That life was gone now. Even after Adam and Newton and Anathema and the children had stopped the Apocalypse, the end of the world had still almost come. Heaven and Hell had tried to get their war when the Divine Plan had failed. If Crowley hadn’t stopped time, if Adam hadn’t stood up to his father, the world that Aziraphale cherished so much would have been completely destroyed.

How could Heaven have wanted that? He understood that it was impossible to go against the Divine Plan, but it had resolved itself without destroying Earth. Why had Heaven still tried to get its war? Why were they so insistent on fighting and killing? On death and destruction? Heaven was supposed to be Goodness and Light. Aziraphale had always believed that. Even when the world had been flooded. Even when the firstborns had been taken from their families. Even when the world was ending, Heaven still remained Good, until it hadn’t.

Was that why he suddenly felt so hollow inside?

Dozens of empty seats were available all around him. There were less than half a dozen humans on this bus. Aziraphale could have sat anywhere. He could have continued walking all the way to the back of the bus. He could have taken the seat behind the demon or across the aisle. He could have done any number of things.

He chose the seat right beside Crowley. 

Heart in his throat, not really knowing what he was doing or why or what it all meant anymore, just knowing that he _ needed _ Crowley in that moment as his world crumbled around him, Aziraphale reached down and slipped his hand into the demon’s. Their fingers locked together perfectly, like they had been made for this and only this. 

_ And finding answers. _  
_Is forgetting all of the questions we called home. _  
_ Passing the graves of the unknown_.

For his entire existence, Aziraphale had kept his questions close to his chest. To ask a question - to doubt The Almighty’s Divine Plan was to Fall. To be cast out of Heaven, Her grace ripped away, never to be whole again. He had been terrified, then, of Heaven turning him away. Now that it had, now that he had the freedom to ask and discover and find _ answers _, the angel found he was still just as afraid.

Those questions had been a part of him for so long. If he dared to step forward and start searching for answers, what would happen then? Finding answers meant no longer blindly following - blindly accepting everything he was told. Aziraphale would have to not only form his own thoughts and opinions, he would have to lend voice to them. He would have to act on his own beliefs - decide for himself what was right and what was wrong.

He would have to live his life without knowing if he was following Her will. With no Divine Plan to guide him. The angel glanced over, blue eyes drifting over a woman with shoulder length blonde hair, nose buried in a book. How did they manage? How did they live their lives without _ knowing _?

A pressure suddenly appeared on his shoulder and Aziraphale would have jumped in shock if he hadn’t been so exhausted. He looked down to find Crowley’s head resting against him. The black sunglasses had slid down the demon’s nose, but there were no golden eyes in sight. His friend was fast asleep.

_ Friend. _A soft smile appeared on the angel’s face. Warmth blossomed in his chest and for a moment, all his worries disappeared. What a day they’d both had. Aziraphale had been discorporated, inhabited a human body, been miracled back suddenly into his own, faced down Satan himself, and still somehow at the end of it all, he was still standing. Well, sitting rather, at the moment, but he was still in one piece. That was all that mattered.

Despite his insane day, Aziraphale knew that Crowley’s day was infinitely more so. He squeezed the demon’s hand just a bit tighter as the bus pulled onto the motorway, heading for London. What a wonderful, astounding creature Crowley was. Driving the Bentley through hellfire to reach the end of the world on time, stopping time to convince the Antichrist to save them all. Aziraphale was in awe of him.

He didn’t know what lay ahead for either of them. The future was open wide to an infinite amount of possibilities, an equal number of them bad and good. Whatever happened, the angel knew that their lives - both of them - would never be the same again. 

_ As reason clouds my eyes, with splendor fading. _  
_ Illusions of the sunlight. _  
_ And a reflection of a lie, will keep me waiting. _ _  
With love gone, for so long._

In what felt like the blink of an eye, they were off the bus and standing outside the door of the flat as Crowley dug through his pocket for the keys.

“Don’t know why I bothered to lock it,” the demon muttered as he jiggled the handle and the door popped open. “Not like a locked door would keep anyone out.”

Aziraphale stepped inside, taking in the sparsely decorated room, the cold, sharp angles of the furniture - black leather and glass tables. It was modern and stylish and the complete opposite of his homey bookshop. For the briefest of moments, Aziraphale felt uneasy. Then, he remembered that this was Crowley’s home. And he liked Crowley. So, of course, he would like this place too.

“Sorry for the mess.” The grumbled voice sounded tired and worn as its owner gestured down the hall to a pile of still-smouldering something in the doorway. “Didn’t quite have time to clean anything up in all the chaos.”

The angel squinted, breathing in deep. Several scents reached his nostrils at once and he thought they quite possibly might be indistinguishable from each other, all wrapped together as they were. Slowly, his mind began to pick them apart. Sulfur, which made sense. Potting soil and new leather, and something else... something cleaner, purer. Something holy.

“Good heavens, Crowley, is that Holy Water on your floor?”

The demon sighed and Aziraphale quickly looked over at him. What was the meaning of this? Was _ this _ a result of the holy water he had given Crowley all those years ago? The demon had swore he’d never use it. He had promised that it was not for him, that it would only be used if things went wrong. Crowley had wanted the holy water - 

“...for insurance,” Aziraphale finished the thought in his mind out loud. _ Of course _ . Tears of relief pricked at his eyes. Until that moment, the angel had not understood how very _ afraid _ he had still been for his friend’s life.

Crowley looked up at him with confusion in his eyes, sensing the angel’s pain. “Course, angel. I told you what it was for. Wasn’t going to give the likes of Hastur and Ligur the opportunity to pop up here and drag me back down to Hell. Away from here...away from you.”

The last part was spoken so softly it was barely spoken at all. Aziraphale felt his breath catch in his throat. How could he have been so blind? How could he have missed everything that had been right here in front of him for so _ long _?

He’d been blinded by the bright light of Heaven, unable to see - unable to believe that a demon could care for him more than his brethren of angels. That a demon could see him and know him better than any of them ever had. 

Now, with his eyes opened wide to the truth, the angel found the splendor of Heaven rapidly fading. The white walls lit up his mind’s eye and Aziraphale found that the color was much colder than he remembered it to be. Knowing what he did now, that place felt more like a prison than a place he could ever call home again. He realized, with a flash of pain through his heart, that he may never go back. Heaven was no longer his home. Maybe it never had been.

Aziraphale’s hands dug themselves into his pockets. He paused when fingertips brushed up against a slip of paper. Pulling it out, blue eyes danced over the old script. A prophecy from Agnes Nutter. The last one she ever wrote.

_ When alle is fayed and all is done, ye must choofe your faces wisely, for soon enouff ye will be playing with fyre _

What did it mean? Was it a warning for them? He was holding the prophecy in his hand, so Aziraphale’s instincts told him that perhaps it was. Without another word, he shuffled across the room and took a seat on the edge of the black leather couch, his eyes never leaving the words, speaking them over and over in his mind.

What could it possibly mean?

_ And this day's ending. _  
_Is the proof of time killing, all the faith I know. _  
_ Knowing that faith, is all I hold._

“Can I get you anything?” Crowley asked him after some time. Aziraphale looked up from his position on the couch, the slip of paper still resting between his fingertips.

“No thank you, my dear.” He didn’t want to take the time to stop. Not now, not when he still had even a moment to figure out what to do - how to save them both.

This was the end for them. This night was the very last they would ever have. They had gone against the Divine Plan, stopped the end of the world, prevented Heaven and Hell from starting their war. The head offices would be out for blood. He wouldn’t get a strongly worded note this time. Heaven and Hell were going to destroy them both. Hellfire for him and Holy Water for Crowley. There would be no coming back.

In that moment, Aziraphale felt his heart crumbling. How had it all come to this? Where was the kindness and love and forgiveness that he’d always been told about? Where was She when they needed her the most?

_And I've lost who I am, and I can't understand.__  
__Why my heart is so broken, rejecting your love, __  
__without, love gone wrong, lifeless words carry on._  
_But I know, all I know is that the end's beginning._

Tears rolled down his cheeks and Crowley was beside him in an instant, arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him into a hug. They had never hugged before, not like this and Aziraphale found the sensation spurring him onward further into despair. 

“Shhh,” the demon hushed, squeezing his shoulders just a little bit. “It’s alright, angel. We’ll figure it out. You’ll see.”

Aziraphale sobbed. How had he gotten here? How did he find himself in a demon’s home, arms wrapped so kindly and gently around him, comforting him when they both knew the next day Heaven would rain down its vengeance upon him. How had he found himself in a world where a demon could show love when the only thing the angels above displayed was hate?

“How?” the angel cried, turning to bury his face in Crowley’s neck. The exposed skin felt warm against his nose, Crowley’s shirt soft in his grip. “How will we figure it out? I have no idea what it means, Crowley, none!”

The demon simply smiled, reaching down with his long fingers to tug at Aziraphale’s chin, lifting it up so they were gazing unblinkingly into each others eyes. Aziraphale’s heart leapt into his throat when he realized just how close they were.

“Aziraphale,” Crowley breathed, “you are the smartest bastard I know. The answer is up there somewhere in that brilliant brain of yours. I have faith you can figure this out.”

Tears fell hotter and faster now, but Aziraphale did not look away. He was flooded with sorrow, suffocating with despair and his only lifeline was sitting right there beside him, ready and waiting to listen. 

He would be a fool to turn Crowley away now, like he had so many other times before.

“Who am I?” The words tumbled from his lips before he could stop them long enough to decipher what they meant. “Crowley, I’m an angel with no home. No bookshop, no apartment, not even Heaven that I could return to. I’m an angel with no Divine Plan, no _ purpose. _Crowley, without Heaven, who am I? I’m nothing!”

The arms around him tensed. A flash of anger lit up the golden eyes before him. When had Crowley taken off his glasses? Aziraphale had been so focused on trying to figure out the prophecy, he hadn’t noticed. “Don’t say that!” the demon hissed. “Those bastards never deserved someone as Good as you, Aziraphale. I’ve been saying it since the beginning, you are the best angel that there ever was - that there ever will be. You are Kindness and Generosity and Intelligence and Mercy.” He took a deep breath, pausing long enough for the angel in his arms to realize he was debating with himself whether to say more or to keep quiet. “You don’t need them, angel. You never have. In all the centuries that we’ve known each other, you have always been at your happiest without them. When it’s been just you and your bookshop. Your tea and your restaurants and long walks in the park.”

_ And you _ , Aziraphale felt his heart whispering back. _ I’ve been at my happiest when I’ve been with you. _

The realization came several millennia too late. Aziraphale knew he loved Crowley. He’d been in love with Crowley for ages, but had never given words to it. He’d never allowed himself to think those thoughts, hadn’t even entertained the notion that it might be love until 1941 and even then, he’d shut the feeling away, like he’d shut them all away.

There was no way Heaven would let him love a demon. There was no way Heaven would let them be happy together, so what was the point in dwelling on the fact?

He had not understood, until this moment, just how much Crowley’s love meant to him. The depths of his feelings for the demon beside him went beyond friendship, it went beyond the bond of brotherhood or the steadfastness of family or the passion of lovers. It was all of them combined and so much more. How had he ever gone a day in his life believing that there was anything more important than _ this _?

_ Who I am from the start, take me home to my heart. _  
_ Let me go and I will run, I will not be silent. _  
_ All this time spent in vain, wasted years, wasted gain. _ _  
All is lost, hope remains, and this war's not over._

“And you,” the angel echoed his thoughts out loud, sitting up to get a better look at his dear friend. Crowley’s serpentine eyes widened, arms falling to his side. Aziraphale felt a pang in his chest as the warmth vanished from around him, but he managed to hold back his whimper. 

“What?” the demon breathed, his eyes disbelieving, hands trembling at his sides. 

Summoning all the bravery that he possessed, knowing full well that he had no idea what he was doing, but determined to do it anyway, Aziraphale lifted a hand and slowly cupped Crowley’s cheek, brushing his thumb across the skin. It was as soft as he’d always imagined.

“I am happiest, my dear,” Aziraphale breathed, heart hammering in his chest. His face had surely turned a bright crimson color based on the sheer amount of fire he could feel radiating from it. “When I am with _ you _.”

Crowley balked and looked like he was about to pull away. Panicking, Aziraphale used his free hand to latch onto the demon’s stopping the occult being in his tracks.

“A-azira - “ the demon stuttered. “You can’t just - But you - Ngk!” He was blushing now. Aziraphale could see the skin tinged red even in the darkness of the room. Why hadn’t they bothered to turn the light on when they’d stepped inside? He supposed it didn’t much matter anymore.

Tears were pooling in the demon’s eyes, but he did not let them fall. “You can’t _ say _ stuff like that, angel,” Crowley breathed, leaning into his touch all the same, bringing a hand up to cradle Aziraphale’s. “You can’t. Not if you don’t mean it. I can’t - I don’t. _ Please _ Aziraphale.”

The angel smiled as gently as Crowley had with him before. He had wasted so much time - his entire life apart from the final night. No more. Aziraphale would no longer be silent.

“No,” he breathed, eyes never leaving the demon’s. “No, I will not be silent. I will not hide. I will not be afraid. Not tonight, Crowley. Never again.”

“I love you.”

In an instant, he found that they both were crying, clinging to each other as if the world were crumbling to pieces around them and only in each others arms did they find any sense of stability. Crowley let out a sob and surged forward, burying his face in Aziraphale’s neck.

“You’re an angel,” he protested, voice breaking as sorrow wracked his body. “You love everything.”

_ You love everything. You have to. I’m not special. _ The meaning in his words was not lost on Aziraphale.

Was he an angel if he didn’t have Heaven? Did it really matter one way or the other? He was still Aziraphale, Principality. Guardian of the Eastern Gate. Lover of Books and Tea Leaves, Duck Feeder, Magician Extraordinaire. Crowley’s Best Friend.

“My _ dearest _Crowley,” the angel murmured, smiling as he heard the demon’s breath hitch at the new nickname. “I love you in every sense of the word. In both angelic ways and human ways. I’ve lived on this earth long enough to know the difference. Please, believe me.”

Slowly, but with a new measure of urgency, Aziraphale tucked his fingers underneath the demon’s chin and brought his eyes up so they were once again level with his own. Without giving Crowley a chance to protest or talk him out of it, the angel leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against his lips.

If this didn’t show Crowley how much he meant it, then nothing would.

Hesitantly, Aziraphale drew back, only to find a pair of fingers entangled in his hair, pulling him closer, smashing their lips together once more. A surge of heat flooded his body and the angel found himself clutching at Crowley’s waist, trying to simultaneously keep himself from falling over on top of the demon and pull him ever closer, wishing to eliminate the distance between them for the rest of time.

So much time _ wasted _because of his fear. They could have had this marvelous, wonderful thing between them all this time if Aziraphale had just been brave enough to take that first step. If he’d just been wise enough to open his eyes to the possibility that maybe the demon who held his heart was infinitely more ‘good’ than Heaven ever could be.

This wasn’t over. Aziraphale refused to let them win. Not now, not when he finally had all he ever wanted. He had been casting Crowley aside for six-thousand years. He needed at least as much time to make up for all that he had wasted. They would find a way to show Heaven and Hell who they were, once and for all. He had hope that somehow, they would succeed. 

_ There's a light, there's the sun, taking all shattered ones. _  
_ To the place we belong, and his love will conquer all. _   
And his love will conquer all.

“Are you sure?” Crowley asked as he suddenly pulled back. Aziraphale moved his hands up to the sides of the demon’s face, caressing his cheeks lightly, waiting for him to continue. “Are you sure this is what you want? That I’m what you want?”

_ I won’t be forgiven. Not ever. Part of a demon’s job description. Unforgivable, that’s what I am. _

Aziraphale’s heart ached. If only there were a way for Crowley to see himself the way Aziraphale did. If only he could sense the love and adoration that filled the angel each time he caught sight of the creature that had become his very best friend. If only they could...switch places, for just a moment, so Crowley could feel the all encompassing _ everything _ that Aziraphale felt for the demon beside him.

“Yes, my dear,” Aziraphale breathed, leaning in to kiss the demon on the forehead, on his nose, his cheeks, his chin, his lips. “I may not know who I am anymore, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know that what I feel for you is real. I have loved you for so long, Crowley. And after today, I finally understand that I had my priorities all wrong. I’ve wasted so much time. Can you ever forgive me?”

The demon smiled - really smiled and Aziraphale was lost. Lost in his golden eyes, the touch of Crowley’s lips against his, the feel of his fingers in Aziraphale’s hair. He sighed contentedly and leaned into the kiss, trying to pour all of the love he knew how to give into the demon with that single act.

An idea began spooling in the back of Aziraphale’s mind. Could it really work? Would that be enough to fool Heaven and Hell? Would it be enough to save them?

“Crowley,” Aziraphale began, pulling back from the kiss, his eyes alight with a spark of hope. “I think I’ve figured it out. I think I know a way that might save us both.”

The demon grinned. “I knew you would, you brilliant bastard.” Aziraphale laughed. “What is it?”

The angel smiled and held out his hand. “Do you trust me?”

Without hesitation, Crowley placed his hand in Aziraphale’s, palm touching palm, amber eyes gazing into baby blue.

“Always, my angel,” he breathed, giving the hand a gentle squeeze. “Aziraphale, love of my life.”

Tears pooled in the angel’s eyes, and he let them fall. This time, they were tears of sorrow mixed with tears of joy. He had lost so much today - his bookshop, his purpose, his belief in the Goodness of Heaven. But he had gained so much more. In the end, it was all worth it. Crowley made everything worth it.

The time had come - time for Aziraphale to take his first step away from Heaven’s shadow and toward a better and brighter future. A future filled with love, devoid of fear. A future with his demon by his side. Never to part again.

_ Yesterday I died, tomorrow's bleeding. _

_ Fall into your sunlight. _

**Author's Note:**

> So, this one was very difficult for me to write, mostly because the song means so much to my and I was trying so hard to let those feelings shine through. I'd really appreciate some feedback on this one, so if you guys have gotten this far and wouldn't mind, please leave a comment and let me know your thoughts - good or bad. I'm always looking to hear how my writing impacts people and for ways to make it better.


End file.
